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and plaintive cries of the lapwing and curlew, which my companions denominated the peasweep and whaup. At dinner, however, which we took about noon, at a most miserable alehouse, we had the good fortune to find that these tiresome screamers of the morass were not the only inhabitants of the moors. The goodwife told us, that the gudeman had been at the hill; and well for us that he had been so, for we enjoyed the produce of his chasse in the shape of some broiled moor-game, a dish which gallantly eked out the ewe-milk cheese, dried salmon, and oaten bread, being all besides that the house afforded. Some very indifferent two-penny ale, and a glass of excellent brandy, crowned our repast; and as our horses had, in the meantime, discussed their corn, we resumed our journey with renovated vigour. I had need of all the spirits a good dinner could give, to resist the dejection which crept insensibly on my mind, when I combined the strange uncertainty of my errand with the disconsolate aspect of the country through which it was leading me. Our road continued to be, if possible, more waste and wild than that we had travelled in the forenoon. The few miserable hovels that showed some marks of human habitation, were now of still rarer occurrence; and at length, as we began to ascend an uninterrupted swell of moorland, they totally disappeared. The only exercise which my imagination received was, when some particular turn of the road gave us a partial view, to the left, of a large assemblage of dark-blue mountains stretching to the north and northwest, which promised to include within their recesses a country as wild perhaps, but certainly differing greatly in point of interest, from that which we now travelled. The peaks of this screen of mountains were as wildly varied and distinguished as the hills which we had seen on the right were tame and lumpish; and while I gazed on this Alpine region, I felt a longing to explore its recesses, though accompanied with toil and danger, similar to that which a sailor feels when he wishes for the risks and animation of a battle or a gale, in exchange for the insupportable monotony of a protracted calm. I made various inquiries of my friend Mr. Jarvie, respecting the names and positions of these remarkable mountains; but it was a subject on which he had no information, or did not choose to be communicative. Theyre the Hieland hillsthe Hieland hillsYell see and hear eneugh about them before ye see Glasgow Cross againI downa look at themI never see them but they gar me grew.Its no for fearno for fear, but just for grief, for the puir blinded half-starved creatures that inhabit themBut say nae mair about itits ill speaking o Hielandmen sae near the line. I hae kend mony an honest man wad na hae ventured this length without he had made his last will and testamentMattie had ill-will to see me set awa on this ride, and grat awee, the sillie tawpie; but its nae mair ferlie to see a woman greet than to see a goose gang barefit. I next attempted to lead the discourse on the character and history of the person whom we were going to visit; but on this topic Mr. Jarvie was totally inaccessible, owing perhaps in part to the attendance of Mr. Andrew Fairservice, who chose to keep so close in our rear that his ears could not fail to catch every word which was spoken, while his tongue assumed the freedom of mingling in our conversation as often as he saw an opportunity. For this he occasionally incurred Mr. Jarvies reproof. Keep back, sir, as best sets ye, said the Bailie, as Andrew pressed forward to catch the answer to some question I had asked about Campbell.Ye wad fain ride the fore-horse, an ye wist howThat chields aye for being out o the cheese-fat he was moulded in.Now, as for your questions, Mr. Osbaldistone, now that chields out of earshot, Ill just tell ye its free to you to speer, and its free to me to answer, or noGude I canna say muckle o Rob, puir chield; ill I winna say o him, for, forby that hes my cousin, were coming near his ain country, and there may be ane o his gillies ahint every whin-bush for what I kenAnd if yell be guided by my advice, the less ye speak about him, or where we are gaun, or what we are gaun to do, well be the mair likely to speed us in our errand. For its like we may fa in wi some o his unfreendsthere are een ower mony o them aboutand his bonnet sits even on his brow yet for a that; but I doubt theyll be upsides wi Rob at the lastair day or late day, the foxs hide finds aye the flaying knife. I will certainly, I replied, be entirely guided by your experience. |
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